Dawning of the Band
by GoldenGryffyn
Summary: A girls first time in the band of a new district. Strange and odd band traditions, a drumajor out for revenge, ect... please rr, rated for mild swearing by a couple of the charictors, rateing may go up due to some of the band games.
1. Beware the Drumajor!

Buzzzzz!!! The alarm clock, filling the air its loud, persistent, and annoying ringing, went off. After about five minutes it apparently resigned itself to the fact that no one was going to stop it, and turned off by itself with an angry 'click.'  
  
Just as we were once again beginning to enjoy the silence, my mother called up the stairs. "Girls! It's time to get up or you shall miss your buses, and I'm, not going to drop you off this year!"  
  
Groaning I rolled over on my bed, and landed hard upon the wooden floor. Right next to, and almost on top of, my cousin Marie, whom everybody called 'Wren.' As it was short for Serenity, which was her long-hated first name. What I couldn't figure out was why the people here called her that, since she was listed in the school files as---  
  
"Marie! Is Lynn up yet? Or do I have to come up there and wake her up myself?" My mother continued to shout, growing more and more frustrated by the minute at our seeming lack of response.  
  
"Marie!?! Did you hear me?" She shouted again, as the window panes rattled with her in frustration.  
  
"Yes Auntie! She's up, I'm up, we're all up..." Wren called just barely loud enough to be heard through the thick oaken door separating us from the very angry woman below.  
  
"Good! Because your buses just rounded the bend!"  
  
"What?!?" Wren gasped as she sat straight up, scrambling out of the sleeping bag and over to the window.  
  
"Damn!!! The buses are here!" she cried as she wadded up her sleeping bag and tied it off. Hearing the panic in her normally calm voice made me jump up too. Leaving my room in a total disaster (actually an improvement) we grabbed all of our bags and raced down the stairs. But tripped over each other and fell down the last ten steps or so. Resulting in my getting hit hard over the head with a metal pole (Wren is in the color guard, heck. She IS the color guard!).  
  
We lay there at the bottom of the stairs gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling, and tangled up among our many bags and boxes. (I had my tenor saxophone case digging harshly into my ribcage, and a smarting welt right above my eye from being hit with the flag pole.) When a loud pounding occurred on the main door - right across the room from where we now lay, its sound filling us with a feeling of dread.  
  
My mother answered it, and Wren and I heard a male voice politely inquire "Good morning ma'am. I'm sorry to intrude upon you, but I wonder if this is the home of Lynn Katherbee?"  
  
"Shit!" Wren whispered in my ear. "It's Kelter!"  
  
"Who?" I asked, murmuring softly so as not to attract the attention of my mother and 'Kelter,' whoever he was.  
  
"Kelter! He's the drum major! We're dead!" she whispered back, eyes wide in horror.  
  
"Why yes young man, it is. Come on in." she responded, pleased by his politeness, and talking just as sweetly as he had been.  
  
"Thank you ma'am, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Matthew Pierier, and I'm the head Drum Major of Kentland Hills High School Marching Band. Is there a Serenity Marie Blauker here right now too?" he asked. Wren and I traded looks of horror, and hoped that my mother would become suspicious and wouldn't give him any more information.  
  
"Why yes, she is, how did you know that?" she asked, but his only response was to smile and shrug. So my mother continued "She and Lynn are cousins, and she stayed the night last night. I heard them come running down the stairs a couple of minutes ago, so they're probably hiding around here somewhere, listening to us talk." Upon hearing this Wren and I began to creep back up the stairs, but where quickly halted as rough hands grabbed us by the shoulders in an iron-hard grip.  
  
a/n- Yeah Band!!! Sorry 'bout that - too much time spent hanging out in the band room and drinking coffee, not that that's a bad thing. Are there any Zeeland High School Band members out there? If so - try to identify some of the characters that will come up soon. Some may have graduated already (within the past two years), but I thought that it would be fun to bring them back anyways, and, since it's my story, there shall be no further comments from the peanut gallery.  
  
But if you're not from Zeeland High, don't worry. I'm just a tadd bit crazy; comes from hanging out with the tubas and trombones, or, possibly, from marching in front of the french horns.  
  
Review and I shall update, don't and I'll ... probably update anyways! I'll just be more rude and sarcastic in my author's notes, oh wait...that's normal... So please review, 'cause I like reviews, especially positive ones! And because, unlike popular belief, I am NOT a naturally angry person, (or so I say...). So I don't really want to complain about my lack of reviews.  
  
-Gryffyn  
  
Oh - read the 'no plot' story by Anubuss. It's absolutely hilarious!!!! I literally fell out of my chair laughing, and that's hard to do since my chair has arms! Not to mention that it hurt, falling out of my chair I mean, not reading his story.  
  
Now I must log off for the day, but to all you bando's out there, I can only say this: Beware the Gonkey! 


	2. Meeting the Idiots, I Mean the Trumpets

The hands dragged us forcefully back down to the base of the stairs and spun us around without ever loosening their iron-grip. With no small trace of fear I looked up into a pair of ice-cold blue eyes, set in a face as pale and as hard as rock, topped by a shock of white-blond hair.  
  
The icy eyes barely paid me heed, as they moved on to Wren. But in that brief moment, before they passed on, I felt a chill go through me as though someone had come up behind me and dumped over my head a bucket of ice-melt.  
  
As he looked at Wren, his eyes narrowed, and grew hard. Any warmth that had been contained in them as they passed me was now gone.  
  
"Wren," he said, is eyes narrowing even more and a scowl appearing slightly upon his face. "Is this the example that you set for your cousin on her first day in our band? And you the Color Guard Captain! If this is all the responsibility that you are planning to show this year, then it is very debatable whether or not you still be the Captain after this week." Wren gulped at his words and hung her head. "Come. We must go now; the buses are waiting, and there are many more people to gather before we will be able to leave for the week," he said, ending his monologue and sweeping us forcefully over to our scattered pile of luggage.  
  
Picking all of it up they were then forcefully guided through the door and out of the house. Pausing only long enough for Kelter to say back over his shoulder to my mother, "thank you for all of your generous help ma'am. These two shall be returned safely to you shortly after a weeks time." Then, once again facing forward, his rock-hard grip returned and forcefully guided us to one of the middle buses. Pushing us roughly inside, so that we stumbled upon the stairs, he himself turned and walked over to a new jeep four-wheeler parked nearby, got in and drove off to the next band member's household.  
  
Shockingly enough after all of the Drum Majors insistence, the bus was practically empty, with only four other people and the driver on board. While the students looked curiously at me and nodded greetings to Wren, the driver steadfastly ignored him; safe behind his protective layer of Plexiglas and meshed steel.  
  
"Well. Now would you kindly explain exactly what just happened, who that was, and why he was so pissed off at you?" I snapped out, turning to look at Wren with a mixture of confusion and annoyance upon my face. I was beginning to become more then a little angry about not having a clue about what was going on.  
  
"That was Kelter, our drum major, or 'Matthew Pierier' if you listen to him. He's not even French for crying out loud! He's German!" she cried out in utter disgust, but seeing my look of annoyance grow she hurriedly continued. "He's been the head drum major in our band for two years now, and he struts around more then enough to prove it! As for why he doesn't like me I'm afraid that you'll have to ask him about that, because I'm not going to tell you."  
  
All through this little conversation of Wren's and mine, we both failed to notice that all four of the other people on the bus had come up and were sitting on some of the seats all around us.  
  
"Oh come on Wren— why not tell her, tell all of us for a matter of fact. I for one have been dying to know for years." This came not from me, but from the fire-orange, obviously died, haired boy sitting in the seat in front of me.  
  
Wren turned, moving her death-glare from me to the lad who had so foolishly spoken. "I don't believe that I was speaking to you at the moment Neal."  
  
"You weren't but that's the truly the great thing about me, I'll respond to your talking either way. Who's your friend?" he asked, switching topics so randomly that it made me jump.  
  
"Oh, this is my cousin, she's a Tenor Sax and her name's Lynn." Wren paused, trying to figure out what had just happened. "Hey!" she cried, figuring it out. "Don't you change the subject on me young man!"  
  
"Young man! How dare yee! If yee were not but a lass I would smite yee for that comment alone! I shall have thee know that I am a full grown man of the age of seventeen!" He cried indignantly, puffing himself up to his full height. But this 'dignified image' was quickly spoiled when the lad in the seat next to him hit Neal hard in the stomach with his elbow.  
  
"Oh shut up Firefly. You know very well that you are very likely the most immature of us all, so you might as well stop trying," muttered the boy who had elbowed Neal. Neal, on the other hand, just glared at the speaker, trying to get his wind back.  
  
The lad who had spoken had a much kinder and more youthful face then that of Kelters, and his blue eyes where much warmer. But they were almost lost when one noticed his hair. It had many black and white stripes running front to back upon it. I saw this and had to forcefully pull myself away from staring at it. When I finally managed to do this, I noticed that he had been reading sheet music from a flip chart, and had set it down to stop the argument. I also saw something sticking out of his shirt pocket; it appeared to be a bottle of valve oil.  
  
"Nobody asked you anyways Skink! Now why don't you go back to memorizing your music like a good teachers pet, while Wren and I continue the conversation that you so rudely interrupted." Neal snapped back at the striped haired boy.  
  
"No, but I responded anyways. Now calm down Firefly! We haven't even left yet, and you're already becoming jumpy. You don't want Kelter to see you acting like this, he'll take away your section leadership." Skink replied calmly. Neal rolled his eyes and grinned.  
  
"Like I care what that stupid prick thinks of me. You worry too much. He couldn't do anything to me if he wanted to."  
  
"Care full there Nealen. You wouldn't want word of your insolence getting back to Matthew now would you?" This came from an as-of-yet unnoticed boy with pale, fine features, black hair, and eyes of such a dark grey that they almost appeared black. "But if trouble with him is what you want, I'll see that he delivers. After all, he already promised to make her life a living hell this week," the boy nodded his head at Marie as he said this, "and I'm sure that he would have no problem adding you to his black list," all of this was complemented by the self-satisfied smirk that was pasted onto his face. "He probably would add her too, just for the crime of being seen with you two idiots," he added, nodding his head towards me. I was, by this time, thoroughly lost and confused, not having a clue as to what was going on.  
  
Anger flashing in his eyes like molten lava, Neal jumped out of his seat. "Why you little—"he cut off quickly with a glance towards me, then continued, slightly calmer. "How dare you come onto my bus and talk to me this way you little worm! I ought to kill you right now!" Neal said in a low, cold voice, starting towards the boy in a fighters walk with his fists raised, ready to strike out at him.  
  
Wren and a kid with leaf green hair quickly jumped up to separate Neal from the boy, who sat there calmly as Neal was being physically restrained from hitting him, and Skink stepped carefully in front of me to keep me from getting hit in the crossfire. "Neal, don't! It's not worth it!" the kid with green hair cried out from between clenched teeth, when this failed to elect a response he shouted "Firefly!"  
  
Although I did not understand this strange cry, it caused Neal to snap back into reality. Stiffly— like an insulted cat— he sat back down upon his bench, as the black-haired boy got up and walked fluidly off the bus. Neal was staring at the toes of his shoes, as if determined not to look anyone in the eye, as he softly muttered "sorry."  
  
a/n- Thanks for the 'review' anubuss. It's somewhat comforting to know that at least my friends read my stuff, and yes. I will continue to broadcast your stories forever more, just to annoy you. After all, what else are friends for?  
  
Thanks also to Countess Katook, who, apparently, has me down under her author alerts.  
  
I will make it be known now that I do not hate trumpets (even though sitting in front of them gives me a headache), quite the opposite in fact, some of my closest friends are (or were) trumpets.  
  
Beware the Gonkey! 


	3. Introductions

Slowly the others all relaxed and with sighs sank back down into their seats. Wearily the green-haired boy said to Neal; "Firefly. You have to stop letting him provoke you!" shaking his head he turned and looked at me, "I don't believe that we've been properly introduced yet. I'm a tuba player, you can call me Moss, everybody does."  
  
"Umm... my name's Lynn, and umm... Tenor Sax..." I trailed off. "But what just happened here, who was that, and who are all of you?" I wanted to know.  
  
Shaking his head the one I had heard called Skink responded. "That was Skib, or 'Ian' to use his true name. He's what we call a Squealer. There are several Squealer's in the band, but he's the only one who reports directly to Kelter." Seeing my confusion he hurried on, "a Squealer is someone who reports unsatisfaction, unhappiness, and possible mutinies to the Drum Majors, Section Leaders, or even the Band Director. Normally, being a Squealer is a pretty respected position, but Skib on the other hand makes it anything but. He uses his new-found power for his own advantage, and not for the greater good of the band. The thing is, he plays to trumpet, as do Firefly and I, but Firefly here is the trumpet section leader. Since Skib reports directly to Kelter, Neal here has absolutely no control over hi. To make matters worse Skib flaunts it in Neal's face every chance he gets, and deliberately disobeys everything that Neal tells him to do." he said with a glance toward Neal, who was still staring angrily at the floor.  
  
"Now for your other question. I'm Skink, sometimes called Tim, and like I said, I'm a trumpet player. My friend here in the green'" Skink continued, nodding his head towards the boy with green hair who had so recently helped Wren restrain Neal from hitting the boy she now knew as 'Skib.' The green-haired boy hit him over the head. "He's a tuba player, unfortunately. Hey!" he shouted as he got hit over the head again, hard. "Anyways, like i was saying, before i was so rudely and violently interrupted, his name is Briar, but call him Moss like he said to, 'cause just about everyone does. Neal-" he said, nodding to the one who was still glaring at his shoes.  
"Well, like you know - he's called Firefly, and is the section leader for the trumpets. You already know your cousin Marie, or at least i hope you do." He finished finally, out of breath.  
  
"Okay, now you know all about us, so why don't you tell us about yourself." This came from the green haired... – no, it came from Moss. The others all nodded in agreement as Wren leaned back in her seat and smirked, she knew how much I hated to be put on the spot.  
  
"Ummm... there's really not much to tell, but okay. My name is Lynn Kathleen Katherbee, and I'm going to be a junior this year. I just moved here from San Francisco, so I still don't know many people besides Wren here. Ummm... I'm seventeen years old, and I've played the Tenor Sax for twelve of those seventeen years, and never once regretted it, well, maybe once. Umm, let's see...oh. I have a cat, two dogs, and three hamsters, no to mention a large amount of fish, and I'm allergic to mushrooms, and yeah... that's about it." I finished nervously, unsure as to whether I'd said too much or too little, and really regretting that mushroom comment.  
  
I looked around at them, trying to figure out what they were thinking. There was silence for about five minutes. Then Neal looked up for the first time, and said, "You have dogs? What kind?" and broke the uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Um, a female Mastiff named Frankie, and a German Shepard Mastiff mix named Sarge. They won't arrive from San Francisco 'till next week though. They were too big for the plane, so my dad's driving them up." I stammered out, surprised that he had picked out that of all the things that I had said.  
  
He just nodded, "That's cool."  
  
Dead silence followed this simple statement, and then Wren giggled. Suddenly they were all laughing. Skink even fell off of his bench and landed hard upon the sticky floor.  
  
a/n- yuck! The bus floor! 


	4. What's in a Name?

It took another hour, but finally all of the band members had been gathered up, and loaded onto the buses. Even though there were only about 200 to 215 people, there were six buses, plus two large trailers, and, of course, Kelter's Jeep. Mostly because it a twenty-three hour trip to the camp, but also because, as the others explained to me, the band director had figured that it was safer to separate the people that he wanted to separate, and not to let us pick our own seats. So there were only around thirty people in the bus that we were on. Unfortunately the rest of them were percussionists, and even I knew what that meant. Tapping. Constant tapping.  
Rit-tit-tit, tappa-tappa-tap. Da-da-da-dum, da-da-da-da-dum, da-di-dum. Ric- tic-tic, tappa-tappa-tap....  
  
"Will you knock it off already!?!" Neal yelled out, loosing his temper after less the twenty minutes of the noise. "Did you hear me?!? I said knock it off!!! OW!!!" he cried out as he got hit in the head by a thrown drumstick. "All right. That's the last straw." he muttered under his breath as he stood up and began to advance upon the one who had thrown the 'stick. Only to quickly retreat under a hail of drumsticks.  
  
Sinking deeply into his seat and using it as a blockade between him and the stick-throwing madmen, he muttered "stupid percussionists" and began to sulk.  
Tat-tat-tat-tat, tat-tat-tat-tat, tat-tat-tum, tat-tat-tum. Rat-tata-tat, rit-tata-tat...  
  
An hour later, the percussionists were still going strong. But possibly running out of the energy needed to play their material, because they had been playing the same five-minute piece for the last twenty minutes. Or perhaps they were just running out of ideas, because when I yelled out "Do you guys know 'Wayward Son' by Kansas?," I was not rewarded with a verbal answer, but instead by the first few notes of 'Carry on Wayward Son.'  
  
Neal groaned and held his head in his hands. "You encouraged them. You're not supposed to encourage them!" he said, apparently shocked that I had not known even this most common of civil decencies. But even remembering to add his very own death-glare to his words; for all that it wasn't nearly as impressive or frightening as Wren's. But I had to give him credit for trying.  
  
"Hey! Fire's giving her the glare!" Skink suddenly noticed the obvious and pointed it out to the entire bus.  
  
"She walked right into receiving it too." piped up a female percussionist.  
  
"It's like a moth to the flame..." Skink wondered aloud.  
  
"Like a moth?" Neal repeated slowly, as if tasting the flavor of the words. "A moth...? Moth?" he said even slower, and then his eyes lit up. "Moth! Your name will be Moth!" he jumped up in his excitement, then promptly fell back down as his head smacked into the ceiling.  
  
"That one hurt 'em." smirked a blue-haired percussionist, who was immediately subjected to Neal's death-glare, however useless it might be.  
  
"Hmmm... Moth, that could work." Skink muttered, thinking out loud.  
  
"What do you mean COULD?!? It will work, and with no help to you, you stupid lizard!" Neal shouted angrily.  
  
"Lizard!?! Who are you calling a lizard you stupid insecticoide!" Skink shouted back.  
  
Wren and Briar traded exasperated looks and shook their heads, Wren rolling her eyes as the two combatants tackled each other.  
  
"Ummm... does this happen a lot?" I asked, slightly shocked by the sight of the guy's very strong and very angry reaction to each other's words.  
  
"More often then you could possibly want to know," Moss replied dryly, watching the combatants with a slightly bemused expression upon his face.  
  
As Neal held Skink in a stranglehold, the percussionists restarted their insistent drumming; bored already with the usual display of a fight between the two trumpets.  
  
Rat-tat-tat, tika-tika-tik, tata-ta-ta, rika-tika-tik. Taka-taka-tik, ta-ta- ta-ta...   
  
a/n- stupid percussionists. J.K. some of my good friends are percussionists, and I wouldn't give up their friendship, or our arguments for anything. 


	5. Silent Tears

Several hours later, it appeared that even the percussionists were too tired to keep up their insistent drumming, for, finally, there was silence. Firefly's expression of relief was so amusing that I might have laughed out loud had I not wanted to be the next recipient of his so-called death glare.  
  
Wren had fallen asleep on the seat directly across from me, and was curled up in a ball, using the cloth of her flag as a pillow.  
  
Many others besides Wren also slept, and since it was 3 o'clock in the morning, I felt that their sleep was justified. The majority of the percussionists slept now, including the blue-haired boy who had laughed when Neal had hit his head upon the ceiling was sleeping, hugging his drumsticks tightly. Skink also slept, his head resting upon his soft-sided trumpet case, his neck still slightly red from Neal holding him in a strangle hold. Neal was dozing now too, half slipping off of his seat in his sleep.  
  
Moss was still awake, his eyes glinting in the streetlight lit darkness, and tear-tracks shining brightly upon his cheeks. His eyes shifted and met mine as I was watching him, and a sad smile appeared upon his face. Embarrassed to be seen watching, I quickly broke my gaze and looked away.  
  
When I next chanced a glimpse toward him, his eyes were closed, and his head was leaning against his seat, he was sleeping.  
  
Seeing him cry had confused me, because I could not figure out why. It didn't matter that I had just met him the day before, or that I hardly knew him, it bothered me that I could do nothing to help him. It wasn't that I wouldn't do anything, but rather that I couldn't; the unwritten laws of today's society wouldn't permit me to. They basically dictated that men (and boys) weren't allowed to cry, and if they did no one was allowed to do anything to help or comfort them. Oh how I now hated those laws.  
  
With these thoughts, and many others like them embedded deep into my mind, I fell into a deep and restless sleep. 


	6. Actions or Deeds?

Unfortunately it was not the colored rays of sunlight, streaming through the cut glass of my bedroom sun catcher that woke me up the next morning, but rather me rolling over and landing hard upon the very sticky floor of the bus.   
  
"Nice landing Moth." Said Neal, as he looked down at me from where he leaned over the back of his seat, a smirk alighting upon his face, orange hair amus.   
  
"Shut up and help me, I think I'm stuck." I ordered him as I attempted to pull myself off of the floor. Laughingly he obeyed, choosing wisely to refrain from commenting on my awkward situation.   
  
Soon after we finished consuming our somewhat questionable breakfast of cold spagettio's and stale pop-tarts Neal came up with what had to be the most brilliant suggestion of the decade.   
  
"I'm bored, let's do something!"   
  
"Oh real smart 'o master of all brilliance. Exactly what is it that you would propose that we should do?" Wren shot back dryly, and quickly became the next recipient of Neal's glare.   
  
"Hey! I do too have an idea!" Neal burst out.   
  
"Well there's a first." Moss said, barely loud enough to be heard; Neal glared at him but continued anyway.   
  
"Shut up you stupid piece of vegetation," retorted Neal, Moss just smirked at him. "But as I was saying before lettuce here so rudely interrupted me, let's play 'Deeds or Actions!'   
  
Apparently this meant something to the others because they all nodded eagerly. "Umm, what exactly is 'Deeds or Actions?'" I asked, my past experience with peoples so-called 'favorite' band games making me more then a little wary.   
  
"It's, umm… well it's kinda like truth or dare. Sorta anyways, and you have a week to complete the Deeds, Actions must be completed immediately." Responded Moss, "who want's to go first?"  
  
"I will" volunteered Skink.  
  
"Alright then," started Neal, "Actions or Deeds?"  
  
"That's easy. I'll take actions Regis, and that's my final answer. Do your worst."  
  
Neal glared at him, then smirked, "Oh good. 'Cause I dare you to eat that gummi bear." He said, pointing to the fuzz-covered candy, which was stuck quite firmly to the floor underneath one of the seats. I shuddered at the thought.  
  
"That's it? You haven't had time to make a list of dares yet this year have you?" sputtered out the blue-haired percussionist. Sheepishly Firefly looked up.  
  
"No Rayn, I haven't had the time as of yet to make one. Oh. I don't believe you've met Moth. Lynn - this is Rayn, he's a snare. Rayn, Moth here is a tenor sax." Rayn nodded his head towards me in greeting and opened his mouth to talk, but was rudely interrupted.  
  
"Hey! I'm not going to eat this stupid disgusting thing if no one here is going to pay attention to me!" Skink cried out indignity. Seeing that he had gotten everyone's attention he pried the offending gummi bear off the floor and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it whole as I cringed at the sight.  
  
"Nice going Mr. Liz" hooted the blue-haired boy - Rayn, as he gave the grinning Skink a high five.  
  
Neal nodded "Nice."  
  
"It's my turn to dare now," Skink replied cockily. "Wren - Deeds or Actions?"  
  
"Deeds of course." she informed him straight faced, "I'm surpassed that you had to ask."  
  
"Gimmi a break - it's just a formality," he muttered darkly, then continued. "I force you to eat something off of the camp kitchen floor before the week is over, in front of two witnesses."  
  
He made a face but nodded "In front of two witnesses I will eat something off of the camp kitchen floor," she repeated it formally. "Firefly. Actions or Deeds?"  
  
"Deeds - as long as it does not jeopardize, in any way, my section leadership." Neal replied happily, clearly loving both the game and the fact that he was now able to boss the trumpets around and get away with it.  
  
"Fine - I'll be nice for once, but you owe me big time!" my cousin told him severely, shaking her finger in his face, he grinned."  
  
"I force you to steal Kelter's brand new, four-wheel drive jeep, and go mud running in it. You will also put it back exactly where you found it, only covered in mud. All this you must do in front of two witnesses, you may dare an accomplice to help you if you want." She said formally, an evil grin appearing upon her face as Firefly gasped in shock.  
  
"You said that you would be nice! I can't do this - I won't just lose my section leadership, I'll get kicked out of the band!"  
  
"That was being nice Neal! You should have heard what I was planning to make you do before you made me promise to be nice!" she sputtered indignity at him.  
  
"Are you accepting her challenge or not Firefly? Answer the question!" Skink snapped out.  
  
Neal glared at him, not the infamous dare glare this time, but a very real, and very angry glare. Then he ducked his head and said sullenly "I'll accept. In front of two witnesses I will take Kelter's jeep, go mudrunning in it, and place it back in its former resting place covered in mud, I may also choose an accomplice should I so want." Suddenly he grinned, "you know - this might actually be kinda fun - if I don't get caught."  
  
"You're the Firefly. You won't get caught." Moss said in a small but confident voice, as the others all nodded in agreement. Neal just sat there, staring at us as if we'd lost our minds, then an evil grin appeared upon his face.  
  
"It's my turn now." he said, turning to look at me. "Moth - Deeds or Actions?"  
  
Uncertian I looked at Wren, who saw that I didn't understand and began to explain. "If you choose 'Deeds' you have exactly one week to fulfill whatever task it is that you are given. But if you choose 'Actions' you have to do whatever it is immediately, but it's, often more then not, something more disgusting too."  
  
I nodded my head to show my small seed of understanding, and slowly and carefully I made my choice. "Deeds."  
  
Neal grinned. "I force you to help me steal Kelter's jeep, and go mudrunning in it. You will be the lookout. All this you must do in front of two witnesses." Now it was my turn to gasp in shock and dismay, because, until I had been in the band for six months, I was basically a probationer, meaning, if I screwed up, I was out.

a/n - 'Rayn' is pronounced the same way as 'Rain,' just spelled differently. See E.P.? I updated, you don't have an excuse to kill me now. Ha Ha!

Please Review so that i know that sombody out there is actually reading this!


	7. Becoming Queen

"Well Moth? Do you accept Neal's challenge or don't you?" Skink wanted to know.  
  
I panicked. I didn't want to get kicked out of the band! But then I thought of the icy Kelter, and the pale and annoying Skib, and I slowly began to grin.  
  
"I accept. In front of two witnesses I will help steal Kelter's jeep and go mudrunning in it. I will serve as a lookout." I said, formatting my answer after the ones that I had heard the others give.  
  
"Good. Then it's settled. You get to do one too Moth, Rayn's left, so you get to challenge him and he starts next time." Neal informed me, obviously happy that he wouldn't be the only one getting kicked out of the band.  
  
"Ummm, okay. Rayn - Deeds or Actions?"  
  
"Deeds - what else?"  
  
"Fine. I force you to paint all of the drumsticks - ALL of them mind you - bright pink. Plus you have to paint purple and pink poka-dots on all of the drums. You must do this in front of two witness."  
  
Everybody looked at me with stunned expressions upon their faces, their mouths agape. "What? Did I do something wrong? What is it?" I asked, really worried.  
  
"That's... that's the best prank I've heard in years!" gasped out Skink, "Even better then some of Firefly's stuff!" as soon as he said that he hurriedly looked at Neal, apologetic. But even Neal looked shocked, not angry at all, so Skink continued. "You're the Queen!" some of the others nodded.  
  
"So I didn't do anything wrong?" I still wanted to know, they shook their heads. "Queen? What are you talking about?" I continued, moving on to more immediate concerns.  
  
"Why mylady - the Queen of Pranks of course!" Neal said, getting down on one knee and bowing, sweeping an imaginary hat off of his head.  
  
Without warning Neal suddenly toppled over as the bus jerked to a stop. From where he landed, head stuck under one of the benches, we heard a small "Ouch." Shaking his head at Neal's stupidity, Skink reached down and helped him off of the floor.  
  
The bus doors creaked open and Kelter walked in. "Did I tell you that you could get up?" he snapped out, ironically since no one was standing.   
  
"You will take everything off of this bus, if anything is left behind, all of you will be scrubbing the mess hall floor with your toothbrushes! Do you understand me? Good! Be at the marching field with all of your stuff in five minutes!" he shot out, leaving the bus. Frantically everybody started to gather their stuff together.  
  
"Has anybody seen my sticks?" I heard one of the percussion players ask worriedly as I followed Wren off of the bus, carrying all of my stuff.

a/n - sorry about the shortness, there wasn't another good place to end for another six (handwritten) pages!

to ancient echos: thank you thank you thank you!!!!!!!!!! okay, i'm okay. sorry 'bout that, too much coffee. i would have updated this yesterday, but ff.n wouldn't let me log in.

to elemental pheniox: (i hope i spelled that right.) who dosn't have to review because she can call me over the phone and yell at me whenever she wants to ;). i told you i'd update soon! but i think you're going to have to yell at me 'bout 'the skyscraper' agian, seeing as how i haven't updated it in 2 1/2 mounths or so. heh heh.

to all my readers out there: i have the next chapter done and will get it up soon (hopefully), but nothing at all will be updated next week 'cause i have to go and help out with a camp-style VBS (vacation bible school), which means i won't have access to a computer for a week.

but remember; always review and Beware the Gonkey!!!!!!!


	8. Arrival Speaches

When we dragged all of our stuff down the hill to the marching field I finally got my first look at the entire band. Just like my old school the brass players were sitting there lazily, have what appeared to be a belching contest by a set of large loud speakers positioned on the side of the field. Nervously I followed Wren and the guys over to an empty spot and we sat down on the wet grass.  
  
A sudden high-pitched squeal of static over the loud speakers had us all wincing and covering our ears. The a voice crackled over the speakers.  
  
"Welcome to Camp Koultridge, marching home of the Keatland Hills High School Marching Band." I looked around for the source of the voice and Neal clapped me on the shoulder and pointed to man standing upon a large wooden platform, about twenty feet off of the ground, the man standing there continued speaking. "You will spend the next week and a half confined to its grounds, your section leaders will tell you its rules and boundaries. Disobey these rules and you will face me. Bunking assignments are tacked to the base of the monster and the mess hall doors, there will be no switching. Returning band members, I expect you to explain our ways to the Newbies, and to set a decent example for them, to you I say welcome back. To the Newbies I can only say this: Welcome to your first week in hell." Shocked faces could be seen around the band from the freshmen, but the man continued. "If you want to eat, be in the mess hall in an hour, forty-five minutes if your a strict veg. or have food allergies. Now go find your section leaders and unpack, but don't get too comfortable."  
  
Cautiously scattered conversations resumed across the field, and I turned to Wren. "Umm... was that the director? And who's my section leader?" I wanted to know.  
  
"That was Ricktor - he's the band director, yes. And as to your section leader, that's a good question. I suppose you'll have to go ask Velt, he's the trombone section leader. In fact, he's right over there," she broke off, pointing to a boy. "Hey Velt!!!" she yelled out suddenly, making me clap my hands over my ears. The boy she had pointed out looked up at her words and jogged over.  
  
"Yeah Wren - wadayawant?" he asked.  
  
"Who's the section leader for the Tenor's this year?" she asked him.  
  
"If we had any, that would be me. Why, do we have any this year, I thought they all graduated."  
  
"They did, but my cousin transferred in. This is Lynn," she said, nodding her head at me, "or Moth. She plays tenor."  
  
"Really?" Velt asked, startled, Wren nodded. "That's cool. You'll be marching with the trombone section, so find us when we have sectionals, I'll go over the rules then." He said, looking at me, then turning back to Wren, "Who named her?"  
  
"Neal did."  
  
"Firefly? Well, it's cool then. I'll see you both later." he said and jogged back off towards his pile of luggage.  
  
Wren looked up at me and grinned. "Don't worry about him, he's always that scattered. But what do you expect from someone who's spent the last three years getting hit in the back of the head by slides? Come on - lets go find out where we're bunked at. I hope it's the contra cabin - it's the only girls bunk with and attached bathroom. If you're in one of the other cabins you have to run to the bathhouse in the middle of the night."  
  
Gathering up all of our stuff we headed over to the platform which had been vacated by the director. As we fought our way through the crowed I turned towards Wren. "Is this the Monster then?" I asked her. Without looking at me she nodded her head, standing on her tip-toes and stretching to her full five-foot, four-inches of height in a vain attempt to read the papers tacked to one of the supporting poles of the monster.  
  
"Damn it! I still can't see!" Wren complained, needless to say she turned to me next. "Lynn - can you read those papers?" she asked. As I could read them far easier then she could at my five foot, eleven inch height, I nodded. "Good. See if you can find our names on that list and read what cabin we're in."  
  
Quickly scanning the list I found Wren's name. "Okay, it says the you're in the Minor Cabin." I read off as she nodded. "But I can't seem to find my name on the list - oh, there it is. It says that I'm in cabin NB7."  
  
As I said this I glanced at Wren and was shocked to find that her face had gone from its normal tanned shade to a pasty white color. "Wren? Are you okay? What's wrong? Wren?"  
  
"Come on. We've gotta find Ricktor. They put you in one of the Newbie cabins!" she gasped out as she turned and started heading off of the field in the direction the band director had gone. Leaving her stuff behind (with the exception of her flag, which had never left her hand) in a pile on the ground where we had dropped it before trying to find our names on the list. Hurriedly I grabbed my tenor case and followed.

A/N -

thnk ya'll for reading!!!! if you're in band, could ya'll tell me what instraments ya play, i'm just cuorious 'bout that. i'll start; i'm first chair bass clarinet. and last chair, and middle chair, and ... okay. i'm the only bass clarinetist sniff. jk. we rock! or, i do rather in the case of my band...

oh, and special thanks to people who review!!!

1) RisuMusume - thank you for reviewing and placeing me on your author alert list!

2) Ancient Echos - thanks agian!!!

3) Anubuss - you know, i think i finally figured out why we only review each others stuff once per story, by now we can kinda guess what the other person will think of it. well, that and we can just complain about them via email...

4) Elemental Pheniox - who hasn't reviewed because she dosen't have too, 'cause she's read and told me what she's thought about it all already

sorry 'bout my tendency to be random today, but i've consumed large quantities of coffee and have had two hours of sleep in the past fifty-two hours. hmmm, mabey i should get more coffee...

oh - and i ment no offense to brass players out there, or trombones either for that matter, i've marched with ya, and i love ya all. color guard too as long as you aren't holding chains or metal/hard plasic poles. i tolorate and some what like my fellow woodwinds. but as long as i have my migraine medicane along i love ya all too.


	9. The Many Faces of Riktor

Wren marched up the hill and off of the field, face troubled as she walked towards a wooden building, past what appeared to be the mess hall, according to the large sign hanging haphazardly above the door.  
  
Stopping sharply before the door she took a deep breath and opened it, stepping inside before she could change her mind. Unsure as to what she was going to do, but positive that it involved me, I followed her in.  
  
Wren walked up to a desk with an elderly lady sitting behind it. "Hi, may I please speak with Mr. Riktor?" she asked in her politest tone of voice.  
  
"Why of course Miss. May I have your name and section so that I may tell him that you are here?" responded the secretary.  
  
"My name is Serenity Blauker Ma'am, and I am the Color Guard Captain." Wren replied evenly, in a calm manner which belied the fluttery feeling that I had developed in the pit of my stomach.  
  
The lady desk told us to wait, though did not offer us the use of the chairs in front of her desk, and disappeared through a door. Though I felt exhausted, I followed Wren's example and continued to stand.  
  
The secretary returned and motioned for us to follow her then walked briskly back to the door, knocked sharply upon it once, and walked back to her desk, leaving us by the door. We stood there for about a minute, but it felt like an eternity, until a low voice spoke out.  
  
"Enter."  
  
Wren did so immediately, with me just a step behind. The room was plainly furnished, the sparse furniture built not for decoration, but for continuous, sturdy use. The desk was hardwood, and probably once had been a fine piece, but the years had marred it, and coated it with a multitude of scratches. But instead of ruining the desk, they seemed to make it more distinguished. A fine example of practical furniture.  
  
The director himself sat behind this desk, his elbows planted upon it firmly, fingers entwined within each other, watching us over the tops of his hands.  
  
"Well Miss Blauker, what may I do for you and your friend? Or was she dragged along for moral support?" he asked, his face stern, but his eyes laughing ever so slightly at the fact that girls could never go anywhere without a group.  
  
"Umm, ... well, ... you see sir, you put my cousin here in the Seventh Newbie Cabin, and well, umm, yeah..." Wren stuttered out, nervous despite her formerly calm composure.  
  
Ricktor frowned sternly. "Wren, you know better that. Your cousin is a freshman, which means that she automatically gets put into a NB (a/n - 'NB' stands for 'Newbie') cabin. There will be no exeptions to this. I have never allowed there to be, and I will continue to maintain that principle. I will not make an exeption just because the person happens to be related to a section leader or captain, and I am ashamed of you for thinking that I would. This is not a good way to start off you section leadership Serenity." he said, his voice a borderline angry tone.  
  
"But sir, she's - " Wren started.  
  
"No buts Serenity. I'm not changing my mind." He interrupted, now sounding angry. For Wren's sake, I decided to interject.  
  
"Sir, may I say something?" I asked.  
  
"I strongly doubt that you could say anything to change my mind, but you are most certainly welcome to try." he said coldly.  
  
"Umm, I think what Wren was trying to tell you is that I'm not a freshman. I'll be a junior starting this year, umm, yeah. Sir." I added, not sure if I was making a huge mistake or not by talking. Riktor blinked several times before saying anything.  
  
"You mean that you're not a freshmen?" he asked, slightly startled. I shook my head.  
  
"Oh. In that case - Wren, I apologize. I should have realized that you of all people would never ask to have the rules bent towards your favor." Riktor said, an apologetic look pasted unto his face, and turned to me. "Please sit down, both of you. What is your name Miss?" he asked me as Wren and I sat down awkwardly upon the surprisingly comfortable wooden chairs.  
  
"Umm, my name's Lynn Katherbee, and I play the Tenor Saxophone sir." I spoke quietly, unsure of myself now that we were sitting down, and not confronted by a very angry band director. But he just nodded  
  
"I see. Welcome to our band Lynn, or should I say Moth? As you've apparently already been inducted, unless my sources have misinformed me?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. Unfortionitly I was still in a slight state of shock by the fact that he knew what the others called me to realize that I was supposed to respond to his comment, fortionitly Wren was paying far more attention then I.  
  
"No Mr. Riktor, you were informed correctly. Lynn has been named, by Nealan Johnson, on the bus ride here sir." Wren answered for me.  
  
Riktor nodded his head. "Firefly? Oh - well that's okay then. Now, what was it that you came in here for?" he asked, switching back to the more immediate problem.  
  
"You put Lynn into one of the Newbie cabins sir." my cousin responded calmly.  
  
"Oh. Right. Now that I can do something about. Is this your first year in marching band Moth?" he asked, when I shook my head he continued. "Then I don't see any reason to keep you in a Newbie cabin, nor to stick you in that rank. I'll switch you to Coda Cabin Two; and Wren as well so that you won't have to stay in a cabin by yourself." Riktor smiled at our poorly hidden smiles of relief. "You can thank me later. I would go and unpack now if I were you. You only have half an hour to unpack Moth, Wren - you're down to forty-five minutes 'till your lunch starts in the mess hall. I trust neither one of you will be late. You're excused, go and find your cabin." he told us, shifting in his chair so that he could see out of the window to the forest beyond.  
  
Quietly we got up and left, taking our instruments with us. As we walked past the disapproving glare of the secretary and out of the building. Only then did something hit me. Turning to Wren I said, "How did he know that I was a Vegetarian?"  
  
Wren rolled her eyes and basically ignored my question as she started walking down the hill towards the marching field to get her luggage. Leaving me standing there alone with my question. Shaking my head I ran to catch up. Apparently there were many commonly known things in this band that I would have to figure out by myself.

a/n - thank you to all of my reviewers. i managed to write this during my breaks at VBS. Now i'll do my individual thanks i guess...

Guard Babe: thanks for your review! and for putting me of both of your faverites lists, and on author alert! i'll tell my friend that there's another person who never lets go of her flag out there, she'll be glad to hear that she's not alone! (she's the person that Wren is based off of.) Thanks again for reviewing!

alycat15365: thanks for your review! i bet theirs a buch of people out there who agree that clarinets rock, and i'll agree somewhat (gimmi a break, i play the bass, so my allegiances are tied in several places btw the brass, low brass, and woodwinds.) hehe, my story does kick butt!!! and drum majors can be a real pain in the, yeah, sometimes can't they? (not that i have anything agianst drum majors, one of my really good friends is one!)

ancient echos: see, more updates!!!!! btw: i love that line too!! assistant section leader? just how big is your flute section?!? thanks for reviewing agian!!!!

Briana (oboe): thanks for reviewing, i would have thanked you sooner, but anubuss forgot to tell me about the review! (shakes fist at anubuss, j/k) yeah, sitting in front of them is annoying isn't it? thanks agian!!!

-gryffyn (will update as soon as she writes the next chapter!)

oh, and you're all my new best friends!!!!!


	10. Unpacking

The marching field was empty when we finally arrived upon it. We hastily grabbed our bags and I followed Wren back up the surprisingly steep hill.  
  
It took us about five minutes to walk to Coda Cabin Two, and I was shocked to find that it was a two-bedded cabin! Wren on the other hand, didn't seem at all surprised.  
  
"Lynn - are you coming in or are you planning to stand outside all day?" she asked, holding the door open for me to enter. The cabin was sparsely furnished in the same style of practical furniture that I had seen in Riktor's office, only with two beds instead of a desk.  
  
"Are all of the cabins like this?" I wanted to know.  
  
"What?" Wren asked, surprised, then answered me. "Naw. Most of them have six to eight people in them. I think a couple of the Newbie cabins hold up to twelve. We got this one because there weren't two spots open in any of the other cabins. Though I must admit, this isn't so bad." she said as she looked around. "Which bed do you want?" when I shrugged she walked over to one of the beds and dumped her bags on top of it. "I'll take this one then - we'd better start unpacking." I just nodded and walked over to the unoccupied bed, set my bags down on top of it and began to unpack my belongings into the dresser by the foot of my bed.  
  
No sooner had I finished then Wren glanced at her watch. "Crap! You've gotta be in the mess hall in five minutes!" she said, shocked that the time had flown by so quickly. "Do you remember seeing the mess hall as we were going up to Riktor's office?" she asked me.  
  
"Yeah, it's the big wooden building with the badly crooked sign hanging above the door, right?" Wren nodded.  
  
"Yeah - that's the one. You should head on down there now, I'll meet you there in about ten minutes or so, okay?" it was now my turn to nod as I headed towards the door. "Oh, and Lynn? Don't let anyone think that you're a Newbie, and introduce yourself as 'Moth'!" she called after me.  
  
With that final cryptic message the door slammed shut between us. Cutting off my lifeline in the strange world that I had been so haphazardly thrown into. With a final glance back at the cabin, I squared my shoulders and headed off towards the mess hall.  
  
A/N - This is NOT the end!!!!!!!! I will be continuing this!!!!!! I already have several chapters partially written!!!!!!!  
  
Okay - sorry 'bout that, didn't want people to think that I was abandoning them or any thing. And I'm also very sorry about the length of this chapter, I just needed to place it there so that there would be a smoother transition between the chapters on either side of it. If I had made it any longer, it would have sounded extremely repetitive. So please forgive me on that account.  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed (individual thanks more towards the bottom of the page), and I'm sorry that it took so long for me to get this up! My only excuse is that I spent all last week helping my grandmother get ready to move! Well, that and some pretty severe migraines...  
  
Special Thanks:   
  
Anubuss: have fun on vacation, and good luck hiding!  
  
E.P. : I posted more, see! You don't have to call me and yell at me anymore, I promise! Please, have mercy!!!!

BaritoneQueen: Holy cow!!! You have a two week band camp ????? unfair!!!! Sorry that this chapter isn't quite up to par with the other ones, truly sorry 'bout that.

Jinxd n cursed: We have three of them in our band. I'll try to fit one in, but I have to introduce a couple of other charictors first. Anywho, thanks for the review, and I'll try to fit one in. There hasn't been one that I was able to relate to since my first year.

Band Nerd 61: Yeah, it is kinda a scary thought, isn't it? You mean they don't allow 'odd' colors of hair in your school? One of my friends rotates between deep blue and dark purple. Another had bright pink for first semester, and a buzz-cutted lime green for the secound one. You say that you have ten (at least) Tenor Saxes?!?!? Wow! And I too wish our Director would have said that. My section leader had to say it to us. (or, rather, the trombone section leader had to say it, since I rotate between that section and the Tubas. I guess they don't know where to put a bass clarinet player ;)) Oh - and they pick up band members based upon the areas that they are located in. Lynn just happened to live in an area away from the other pick up zones. I would guess that there are twenty to thirty stops. About an hours worth of pick ups I'd say.

Thanks all for reading, and please review!

-Gryffyn

Oh! And I won't be able to post next week, It's my turn for band camp. But I'll try to get a couple of other chapters up while I still have the energy to do so.

And all remember this: Beware the Gonkey!!!!


	11. New Friends, New Enemies

With a sense of nervous forbidding I pushed open the rough screen door of the mess hall, and cautiously made my way inside. To my surprise there were about twenty people there, all of which, unfortunately turned to stare at me as I accidentally let the door slam behind me.  
  
One of the larger kids pushed himself off of the wall and sauntered over to me. He was huge! And not overweight huge either, but tall and broad shouldered huge!  
  
"Well well well, what do we have here? A weakling Newbie?" he asked, smirking. "You might as well drop out girl, you'll never make it in this band. Go see if one of our competitors will take you in, they need all of the help that they can get. Although, I doubt that even they would take a scrawny freshman like yourself." the boy added, an obviously fake thoughtful look upon his face.  
  
"I'm not a freshman, and I'm not dropping out, so leave me alone." I told him, nervous as I looked up into his brown eyes.  
  
"No. I'll do whatever I want to freshman. You have no right to tell me what to do. You might as well quit right now, while you still have the chance." the boy said as he moved closer.  
  
Suddenly a callused hand clapped me on the shoulder and I heard a low voice. "Move on Ralon. You heard her, she's no freshman. And in case you didn't hear her, hear this. Bother her again, and you will face me." The effect of these words on Ralon was amazing. Without another word, he snarled and stalked off, his shoulders firmly set in an angry hunch.  
  
A bit wary, I turned and looked up into the face of my rescuer. He was shorter then Ralon was, but with black hair, and dark gray eyes. Behind him stood a familiar face, topped by green hair, and alight with brown eyes.  
  
The black haired boy broke off his angry glare at the retreating Ralon and spoke to me. "You were telling the truth that you aren't a freshman, right kid?"  
  
"Yes." I responded shyly, "I'm a Junior."  
  
The boy nodded. "Good. My name is Stone, Drum Captain, and I'm a Senior."  
  
"I'm Moth, and, well, I play the Tenor Sax." I mumbled. Moss rolled his eyes.  
  
"Come on you two. They started serving our food. We gotta go up there if we don't want to end up eating what the rest of the band eats." He informed us, and started walking away towards the short line for food. Stone followed him, with me trailing behind.  
  
Because I was new I had to fill out a form stating exactly what I couldn't, or wouldn't, eat. So by the time I finally got through the line, the others were no longer standing there.  
  
"Hey - Moth! Over here!" Moss called from his table across the room. Seeing him, I hurried over, glad that I wouldn't have to eat my meal alone 'till Wren came, and sat down next to him, and across from Stone.  
  
In reality, the food wasn't so bad. We were eating spaghetti, with meatless marinara sauce, and garlic bread. Along with some sort of nameless (and tasteless) red liquid, which was almost sickly sweet and lukewarm. All in all, it was heaven after my last meal of stale poptarts and cold spaggetio's eaten straight from the can.   
  
About halfway through my meatless spaghetti I glanced up, to be greeted by Stone cocking an eyebrow at me, a smirk playing around his mouth. I cocked my own eyebrow and looked at him. Finally he lost in his attempt to hold back whatever he was thinking, and opened his mouth.  
  
"Hungry?" he asked, smirking openly now.  
  
"Shut. Up." I muttered darkly as I glowered at him and continued to eat my now-cold noodles with sauce, somehow causing Moss to choke on his own spaghetti as he burst out with laughter. Needless to say, I glared at him, causing him to lose it even more.  
  
"No." a calm voice replied, Stone by the events accuring around him. For some reason this caused Moss to lose what little control he had left. _-Boys-_ I thought, shaking my head.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shortly after these events, the others came to our table with their 'normal' meals, trying unsuccessfully to figure out why Moss was choking on his spaghetti, and why we were blatantly ignoring it.  
  
"Alright - spill it. What happened to make Lettuce here lose it so badly?" Neal finally asked, staring fasinatedly at the sputtering Moss.  
  
"Don't ask." I muttered, not quite sure of the reason myself.  
  
Neal opened his mouth to insist upon an answer, but before he could speak Skink elbowed him hard in the ribs. "Stuff it Firefly. We're better off not knowing."  
  
Next to me, Moss took a large breath and let it out slowly, finally regaining enough conciseness to look around, if not enough to think clearly, and spoke wonderingly. "Hey - where's Rayn anyways? I thought he said that he was going to eat with us?"  
  
The others traded looks. "Umm - he said that he wasn't feeling well and he went back to his cabin..." my cousin trailed off nervously. Her announcement was followed by an awkward silence which I didn't understand. But was swiftly cut off by Stone's cup slamming down unto the table.  
  
Roughly pushing back his bench Stone stood, and gathered his dishes. "Later Moss, Moth." he said shortly with a nod of his head at us. Then he turned and walked away, taking the newly formed thundercloud of tension with him.  
  
"Hey! What just happened? He was happy a couple of minutes ago!" I asked everybody, completely and utterly confused.  
  
Once again the others traded looks, then Firefly broke off his death glare at Moss and answered me quietly. "Stone, well, umm..." he sighed and continued. "He's Rayn's twin brother. But where Rayn is always in the spotlight because of his non-serious and outgoing nature, Stone is more quiet and serious, so he kinda gets pushed into the background. Which was fine with him, because he got to concentrate on what he loved, and the only thing he's better then his brother at, music. He's also sorta shy, which is why I'm surprised to see that you to were getting along so well - he doesn't normally open up that quickly." Neal said, taking a breath, but Wren quickly continued for him.  
  
"But it was all good 'till the percussion parts for this years show got handed out. Well, you know that Stone's the Drum Captain right?" I nodded. "All of the chair auditions are done by blind testing. That's where the auditions are recorded onto cassette tapes and numbered, and no names are put on them, so that everyone has an equal chance, and there's no chance of favoritism. So that's how Stone made captain,"  
  
"It's a position he's well earned!" Skink interrupted hotly, Wren nodded.  
  
"Yes, he has. You see Cous - every year the Drum Captain gets the solo parts in the drum feature. But somehow Riktor decided that Rayn should have the solo parts, even though Rayn got sixth chair, and his brother got first. So even though he didn't ask for the parts, he got 'em. As you can well imagine, this didn't sit too well with Stone, and, well, ..." she trailed off.  
  
After a brief moment in which no one spoke, Neal continued. "They got into a fight over it, and it quickly came to blows. Still neither one was willing to admit that they were wrong about fighting over it. It's gotten to the point that the mere mention of the other can set one of them off." he sighed, shaking his head. "It's hard to be around them without setting them off, but what's a friend to do except hang with them in tough times?"  
  
Suddenly an unfortunately familiar voice crackled over the ancient speaker system in the mess hall. "Attention. Attention. You all have ten minutes to finish your meals. Then find your section leaders. You have sectionals starting in half an hour, so find out where your section is meeting, and what you have to bring to them. If any trash is left in the mess hall, each and every one of you will be running ten suicides on the marching field. No exceptions." Kelter snapped out, looking at Wren as he spoke the last words. His eyes cold and hard as they had ever been. After holding the entire band spellbound for about five minutes by the sheer and utter dislike blazing from his eyes, he turned sharply and marched off of the crude podium and out the door with an almost military precision, letting it slam shut behind him. Slowly conversation spread back throughout the crowded room.  
  
Moss picked up his tray and stood. "I'll see you guys later then, gotta go find my se-le, ttyl!" he said quickly, walking off.  
  
(a/n - 'se-le' is pronounced 'say-lay' and means SEction LEader; 'ttyl' is pronounced 'tile' and means Talk To Ya'll Later, at least in my band it does. Sorry for the interruption!)  
  
Neal stared after him for a minute then shook his head as if to clear it. "Yeah, I gotta go too. Have to round me up some Newbies. Skink - we're meeting in Campfire Clearing. Bring drill charts, pocket charts, flip chart and lyre, and your practice trumpet. Probably water too, spread the word, 'kay?" he finished (Skink nodded) and stood, grabbing his stuff and leaving.  
  
I glanced around , trying to spot Velt, who Wren had (thankfully!) pointed out to me earlier. Finally I spotted his streaked blond hair, he was standing by the door and talking to some boys who were obviously freshmen. Their height and nervousness gave them clearly away.  
  
Quickly I turned to Wren, not wanting Velt to leave before I could get over there. "Hey, I spotted Velt. So I guess I'll see you after sectionals then." I said, she just nodded, craning her neck and trying to spot some of the other Guard, while still eating her spaghetti. Standing, I grabbed my tray and cup, and walked quickly over to the trash can, scraped off my tray, and deposited it and everything else on the dish carts. Then I headed over where still stood, talking to freshmen.  
  
He glanced up when I walked over to the group, and a flash of recognition passed over his face. "Ahh, Moth. We'll be meeting in Tempo Cabin, it's the large guys cabin, in twenty minutes. Grab you sax and join us there. If it's cool with you I'll get your music and drill with theirs and give it to you then." he said, nodding his head towards the freshmen surrounding him.  
  
"That works. Am I even allowed in the guys cabins?"  
  
"Not usually. But we haven't ever had this happen before. So I'll check that out when I get the stuff. If not, we'll move, if so, well - then it's cool." I nodded, then took off to get my sax, knowing that it would probably take me the full twenty minutes just to find the guy's cabin.

a/n - holy cow! long chapter!!!!! ya'll owe me!!!! or not, since i have band camp next week and probally won't be posting 'till afterwords. it depend. we'll see how much energy have left. (it's supossed to thunderstorm severly on monday (the starting day), and tuesday tee-hee poor wittle newbabies _(NOT!)_)

anywho - thanks:

E.P. : hope your shoulder feels better soon!

Anubuss : Welcome back!

BaritoneQueen : still, unfair!!! we have one week!!!! and (our school is doing sever cutbacks (no more colored paper!!!), we're at home on the marching feild too!!! i hope we can get the whole drill down in fourty-five hours! (nine hours a day, five days a week). and i'm glad you guys got yous all memorized. what's your playlist? thanks for your review!

Chramedprincess : Well i'm glad i was able to introduce you to it then! and i'm glad you love my story! (it makes me feel all warm and happy inside - or mabey thats just the coffee... jk!) out of curiosity, how many people are in your french horn section?

Jinxed n Cursed : three weeks!?! okay. i'm mad at you. that's unfair!!!! (j/k - although it is unfair!!!!) we have our marching feild between buildings (compleate with yard lines and markers, well, sometimes anyway). the foot ball feild's across a two-lane (soon to be four lane (hopefully) road). so we're between the band room and the marching feild too.

have a nice band camp every one. and if you already had it, then i hope it was nice! oh, and out of curiosity, what are your playlists? 'cause its always cool being jelious over other peoples playlists!

anywho - night all! and Beware of the Gonkey!!!!

-gryffyn


	12. Sectionals

I jogged back to my cabin and rushed inside, then quickly skidded to a halt. I wasn't alone. Sitting on one of the chairs was a pale boy, his black hair and gray eyes washing out any color that his face might have carried. His thin mouth curved in a smirk as he looked at me.  
  
"Well hello there little butterfly, it's so nice to see you again, is it not?" he asked silkily.  
  
"My name is Moth Skib. Now what the hell are you doing in my cabin?!?" I snapped out, no longer shy around the one who had threatened my cousin and my new friends.  
  
Skib smirked openly at me. "Wouldn't you like to know? I'll take my leave now, but do tell your cousin that I was here, and that I brought a message for her, she'll be quiet surprised." he said, nodding his head toward Wren's bed and the small brown box sitting on top of it. Standing up in a jerky movement Skib walked out of the cabin, leaving me staring after him.  
  
As he walked out of sight into the woods I shook my head in annoyed confusion and looked over at the package Skib had pointed out to me. It was rather small, about the size of my fist, and wrapped in plain, brown, post-office wrappings. I couldn't see any markings on it at all.  
  
A flashing light at the corner of my eye drew my attention. It came from Wren's digital alarm clock. She had apparently plugged it in but not had time to set it as it flashed a neon-colored twelve 'o clock. Seeing this I glanced down at my own watch, intending to set the alarm. Then I remembered.  
  
I now had exactly fifteen minutes to grab my sax and find Tempo Cabin. Quickly I unearthed my case from underneath my pile of simi-unpacked luggage, grabbed my flip-chart, and left the cabin. Locking it securely behind me. Then began walking towards the nearest clump of bandos, hopeing that one of them could direct me to my destination.  
  
My hopes were rectified as one of the boys, (who was carrying a soft-sided trumpet case) pointed me in the right direction. With a nod of thanks I departed, leaving them to their conversation.  
  
My earlier worries went unjustified as I reached the Tempo Cabin with seven minutes to spare. Unlike the cabin I was housed in, this one was huge. It was at least four times the size of mine. Cautiously I knocked upon the screen door.  
  
A tall, slender boy with hazel eyes and blond hair answered the door. "May I help you?" he inquired of me.  
  
"Umm, yes. Is Velt here?" I asked, nervous from being on the opposite side of camp from anyone that I knew.  
  
"Yeah, he's here - wait a moment." the boy said to me, then looked over his shoulder. "Hey Velt! There's a girl here asking' for ya!" he called. Moments later Velt appeared.  
  
"What? Oh - Moth!" Velt said, surprised. "You're here already! Come on in. I'm going to go get your music and drills right now."  
  
I entered the boy's cabin, with no little sense of unease, and was shocked by the neatness of the room. Growing up with mainly male cousins, I had become accustomed to messiness and downright clutter. But the cabin in which I stood was spotless, the shining floors giving evidence to a long polishing, the wood still gleaming after a afternoon of teenage boys treading across it with dusty shoes.  
  
"Have a seat on one of the bunks. The others will be here shortly and I've gotta go get the supplies." Velt murmured distractedly as he walked out of the cabin, letting it's door slam shut behind him.  
  
"Didn't even think to introduce us - that's Velt for ya." the hazel - eyed boy muttered, shaking his head. "I'm Red, second chair trombonist, and co-section leader."  
  
"Moth - Tenor Sax" I replied, gripping his hand in my own, he nodded.  
  
"Have a seat. I would offer you a chair - but we have none, so you'll have to use one of the bunks. I'll be back shortly - I've gotta go round me up some Newbies." Red told me, his face splitting into a wide grin as he nodded towards a group of nervous - looking freshmen a ways down the dirt path.  
  
The door whispered shut behind him as I slowly sat down upon the only hard camp bunk which looked unclaimed, ducking my head so that I wouldn't hit my head on the framework of the upper bunk. Yawning I pulled my case onto my lap and opened it, beginning to put together my saxophone.  
  
I had just readjusted my reed and secured it with my legiture when the cabin door burst back open and loud talking washed over the calm of the room, taking with it any remaining hint of silence.  
  
"Yeah right. Of course you were surprised by Riktor. You're a Newbie, it's in your job description." commented a bronze - haired boy as he walked past, not noticing me in my tucked away corner of the room.  
  
"As if you're any better. You're a sophomore, and only transferred into the district halfway through concert season last year." retorted the blond-haired, slightly shorter boy walking beside him. The shorter boy was carrying a trombone case.  
  
"Oh I'm better all right. You wouldn't believe how much better!" spat back the taller of the two. Walking over to one of the bunks he knelt down and pulled a soft-sided trombone case out from under it as I watched the pair in amusement.  
  
"Uh huh. Of course you are." smirked the younger lad.  
  
Whirling around to spit out a comeback the kneeling boy caught sight of me. Letting out a gasp he lost his balance and toppled over, quickly scrambling to his feet . "What are you doing in here?!?" he choked out, completely and utterly shocked and somewhat fearful. Seeing the expression upon his face I bit my lip and held back a laugh.  
  
"She's here because she's supposed to be here, and for no other reason then that. As hard as it is to believe that she's not going to kill you, you'd better try. Because sectionals can get awfully long if you fear one of your fellow people." came the sagely advice of Red from the cabin's entrance. He had reentered the cabin unseen as I was busy being bemused by the underclassmen, and was now leaning nonchalantly against to door frame, arms crossed, and eyebrow quirked amusedly.  
  
Any reply the boy might have made was cut short by several more people entering the cabin. Some of whom stopped short at the sight of me, but the majority mearly glanced at me and continued walking, for which I was thankful.  
  
After a scant couple of minutes everyone of them had gotten out their trombones and were either ingrossed in hushed conversations with their neighbors, or were sitting silently and doing their absolute best not to stare at me. Mostly it was the younger ones who sat in shocked silence, as their elder counterparts took it all in stride and talked about everything other then the elephant in the room.  
  
The awkward silence was abruptly broken as Velt stumbled into the cabin, nearly tripping over the door-frame and almost dropping his armloads of drill and music. I for one was glad to have something besides my sense of nervous forbidding to focus on.  
  
Red rolled his eyes and moved to Velt's side, taking the majority of the papers from him and setting them on top of the nearest dresser.  
  
Velt followed Red's lead and set down the rest of his burden. Then turned and faced the room. His eyes searching the faces until he found mine. "Ahh! Good! You found your way here all right then Moth! I had wondered if you would!" he said cheerfully as I stared at him confused. But he turned to the room as a whole.  
  
"In a few minutes the rules of this camp will be told to you. But for now, let me introduce myself. I am called Velt, and I am your section leader this year. Also helping me will be Red, he's co-section leader with me. He will now tell you all of Camp Koultridge's rules and boundaries." Velt finished abruptly, sitting down upon what appeared to be his bunk. Red smoothly continued.  
  
"Koultridge's boundaries are simple, and plainly marked. Wondering within these boundaries is perfectly fine. You'll know you've gone too far when you hit a paved road or a privet lake. Our boundaries go up to the edge of those roads and that lake." he explained calmly. Breakfast is at seven-thirty each day. Lunch is at one, and supper is at six. Vegetarian meals began forty-five minutes earlier then these times. If you're late to a meal, or miss one, then you don't eat. Simple as that.  
  
Dress code is a tee-shirt and shorts, with tennis shoes. No torn off sleeves, muscle shirts, tanks, or chains will be permitted. Make sure your shoes have enclosed heels, or you'll get push-ups and suicides to complete before the next days breakfast. Not exactly the best way to start out you're day, trust me.  
  
Your cabin's must remain in a decent livable condition throughout the week. If you see trash, pick it up, regardless of whose it is, pick it up and throw it away. Lights out is at one-thirty, wake up call at six. Now, with the exeption of us during sectionals, there will be no girls in boy's cabins, and no boys in girl's cabins. Breakers of this rule will be sent home immediately at their parent's expense." Red finished, leaning back against the door frame as Velt continued.  
  
"As you may have noticed, things have differed from years past. Regardless of what was, change is a good thing, a necessary thing, one which we cannot live without." at this point Velt turned to me. "I have talked to Riktor, and have gotten his permission for us to meet in this cabin. All of us." he said, nodding his head and turning back to face the rest of the room. "Teamwork is necessary. I don't require any of you to like each other. But I do demand that you work together and at least pretend to get along when we are together as a group. Each and everyone of you will pull your weight here. I will have no slackers in my section." he finished firmly, his arms crossed.  
  
"Alright." Red said after a moments pause. "Most of you know each other from band in years past. Therefore, it is my pleasure to introduce our only brand new member this year. Make no mistake, she is not a Newbie, and shall not be treated as such." Red said sternly, looking around the room and leaving no room for doubt in their minds. "Now. Let me introduce her to you. Lads - this is Moth. She's a tenor sax player and is going into her junior year." At this point most of the eyes in the room turned from Red to meet mine. I gave a thin-lipped, nervous smile and a small nod of my head. Several people nodded back. But all attention quickly snapped back to Red as he continued. "Now I expect that you will all make her feel welcome, and will introduce yourselves. But not now. Because now you new ones have to get your music, and you all have to get your drills." Red finished calmly, pushing himself off of the doorframe and walking over to the stacks of paper sitting on the dresser. Picking some of them up, he began to walk around the room, distributing the music in parts. When he finally got through all the music in his hands he walked back over to the dresser and picked up a very small stack of paper, no more then six or seven sheets high, and walked over to me.  
  
"Here's your tenor music for the show itself. We'll have to get you pregame and stand cheers later." Red said, handing me the small stack of paper. Then he walked away to pick up the drill charts.  
  
I glanced down at the sheets of paper in my hands. Photocopied onto them in flip-chart size was: 'You Really Got Me' by VanHalen; 'Smoke on the Water' by Deep Purple; '(Dude) Looks Like A Lady' by Areosmith; 'Grand Illusion' by Styx; 'Dream On' by Areosmith; and, ironically enough, 'Carry On my Wayward Son' by Kansas. I grinned to myself, pleasantly surprised. I had played 'wayward son' last year for a parade with my old band, and it happened to be one of my favorite songs.  
  
Eventually Red made it around the room to me again and I was handed drill charts with the number 'L39' written on top of them.  
  
Velt stood. "I know that normally the tuba's and baritone's have their own letter, but we got a new writer this year, and this is the way he printed them. They have numbers one through nineteen, and we've got numbers twenty through thirty-nine." he glanced at his watch. "Okay people, we have enough time to go through these songs at least twice, so let's get to work."  
  
Dutifully we slid our music into our flip-charts and picked up our instruments.

a/n - okay. i had a nice little response to each of you typed up on the edit/preview page that was at least three lines each per person, and then the computer froze. i am now officially annoyed. not only did i lost that. but i lost the next two chapters and i now have to re-type them both. so i'm no longer in the best of moods, obviously. so i'll attempt to summerize what i had typed.

okay. i can also blame the computer agian. this chapter would have been up by nine thirty last night, but the computer decided that it would be able to crash, wipeing out everything that i had saved withn the last 37 hours.

normal begining of a/n -

sorry that it took me so long to update. but i haven't had the time! and at least its a long chapter! unlike the next one i'll be posting. that one's really short.

and boys: sorry 'bout that messiness coment! if you knew my cousins at all, you'd understand. it's impossable to walk into their rooms (or their apartments for that matter) without being verry careful. you'd break your neck if you tried to walk normally!

the playlist for my school's show is the same as the one i used in the story. that's not the order it's in, but it's close enough.

individual thanks:

bandnerd: some of us do yeah. others i gave names to protect them; or, perhaps, myself.... not all of them have strange haircolor, just a few. it just happens that the ones i introduced in the story have 'unnatural' hair colors. and yes, our school does allow them, as long as they're not 'overly distracting.' has there ever been a bando that wasn't strange???

BaritoneQueen: perfectlly okay, i've been gone longer. our band has weekly monday night rehersals too, but most of us had all of the music memorized by the time band camp ended. how do you play in only three of the five peices? thanks, i did have fun (regardless of the ninety degree weather...)

Chramedprincess: that's cool. you're playing the Beatles?!? no fair!!!

Anubuss: (to 'buss) you're welcome. (to other people out there) anyone who wants to kill him's gotta fight me first!!! (steps into a fighter's stance) we need him to play cards with! 

Jinxd n cursed: yeah, it's tucked in between our two (for now) high schools. stupid grass. new bd?!? ouch! dosen't he/she know better then to switch the dates of band camp???

clarinetchica2006: thanks, it reminds me of my band too! i'm guessing you're going to be a junior as well as a clarinet player this comeing year then? or, perhaps you already are, since every school has a different starting day...

to all: if you would like me to email you a charictor discription sheet, then tell me and i will. if you're not logged in, make sure to tell me your email address.

thanks all!

-gryffyn


	13. Complicated Living

Half an hour later we were putting our instruments back into their cases and getting ready to go when Velt interrupted our packing.  
  
"Good rehearsal people, I've seen a lot of improvement, and I expect to see a lot more in the not-so-distant future. Have a nice day." With that bizarre statement Velt shoved his hands deeply into the pockets of his shorts and ambled out of the building, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving us to glance around the room in confusion.  
  
Shaking his head, Red shoved his trombone case under his bunk and stood up. "Okay. What he meant was that he'd seen some improvement, but a lot more is needed form each of you before we will be anywhere above a 'good' level. He's just too polite to come out and say it."  
  
"Or too stupid." muttered a nondescript looking boy from the other side of the room. Red's eyes flashed.  
  
"What did you say?" he said slowly, his voice dangerously calm.  
  
"I said that he was too stupid to come out and say anything properly. Perhaps you are too, or maybe you're just deaf." the boy said mockingly. In an instant Red had moved across the room and was holding the boy against the wall by his shirt collar. Swiftly a tall white-haired boy walked over to where Red had the boy pinned.  
  
"Red - calm down. He doesn't know what he's saying. He doesn't know what happened. Calm down. Let him go. It's okay. Calm down." the tall boy said quietly to Red. "Let him go." Clenching his jaw Red dropped the boy, then turned on his heel and loudly stormed out of the cabin, displaying none of the sureness of stride that he seemed to be known for.  
  
The boy Red had dropped got up and dusted himself off. "I should have him arrested for that. At the very least get both him and his precious Velt thrown out of this school district." he snapped, making the white-haired boy turn back towards him.  
  
"Go ahead. Any judge would throw the case of court, the principle would laugh in your face. Apparently you're the only one in our state that doesn't have a high enough IQ level to see who you're insulting before you do so." Before the boy could voice another insult or threat, he turned back to the room. "The rest of you - I don't want to hear any of this discussed. Got it? Good. You have the next three hours and forty-five minutes to finish unpacking and familiarize yourself with the camp. Then you have supper - after that, marching block. I strongly suggest that you leave Red alone 'till then. It might be wisest for your continued health." He finished. Picking up his trombone case and heading towards the cabin door he paused without looking back. "And for the record - I'm called Angel." he said, then walked out the door.

a/n - okay, i'm sorry for the short chapter people, but you have to admit, it was a good place to end it. what did ya'll think of angel. and remember, tell me in your reviews if you want me to email you a charictor discription sheet. it gives the charictor's ages, grades, hair and eye color, instament, nick name, hight, and other stuff depending on how much you've learned about that charictor so far in the story. like, for instance, it'll tell you that the fact that Moss was crying in 'silent tears' was an important fact to remember, but it won't tell you why, yet. heh heh (evil laugh). i'm okay, really.

individual reviewers: i didn't really give ya'll that much time to review after i posted that last chapter this morning, so sorry 'bout that.

Jinxd n cursed: congrats! you were my only reviewer last chapter. did your school not start yet or something? bummer 'bout those band teachers. but you're right, at least you have one right now. that's what counts. thanks for the review!


	14. Velt

Blocking out the boy's continued threats and insults at Red, and now Angel, I quickly gathered up my stuff and left the cabin. With some of the others, who were obviously restraining themselves from hurting the boy, behind me.

When I came to the division of paths I turned and placed my feet along the path I thought I would have to take to get back to my cabin and started walking. After about ten minutes I looked around me for the first time, noticing how quiet it was. Aside from my footsteps, the only sounds were the rustling of the leaves in the trees high above me, and the faint lapping of water in the background. It took a bit for this sound to register in my brain, but when it did, I stopped instantly, remembering Red's words about the boundaries of the camp.

I glanced at my watch seeing how much time I had left before supper. Then curiosity got the best of me and I turned in the direction of the water and started walking.

After about five minutes, the shading of the trees lessoned, and they began to thin out; going from decades-old hardwoods to fast-growing oaks and maples. Then the trees stopped altogether, as I entered a clearing, and I had my first look at the lake. The afternoon's sunlight had caught upon the glassy water, and sent off a mirage of colors to dance and mingle in the shadows.

But the lake, however beautiful, failed to hold my attention for long. Because on the edge of the clearing, near the water, sitting upon a fallen tree-trunk, head in his hands, was Red.

I wavered a moment a moment, recalling Angel's words, but my heart won over my head. It was not in me to just watch someone in pain; I had to help them, or at least try too. Gathering up my courage I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then started walking towards the still form.

Red apparently didn't hear me approaching, he was that much still wrapped up in his anger and frustration. Because as I moved up into his line of vision, he jerked sharply, moving swiftly into a half-crouched fighter's stance, fists raised. Hastily I backed up and out of range, my hands held up in front of me.

"Red – calm down. It's just me. Just Moth." I stuttered, surprised at the reaction that I had unintentionally awoken in him.

My words must have sunk in as I said them, for he lowered his fists and I glimpsed a deep sadness in his eyes before he ducked his head and sat back down upon the log. After a brief hesitation I walked forward and sat down beside him. Hoping that, in some unknown way, my mere presence would be the comfort that he so desperately needed.

We sat in silence for what seemed like forever, but was actually only a few minutes displaced by time and the misty breeze blowing off of the sparkling water. Then Red sighed, and ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head. "I'm okay now." he murmured more to himself then to me, as was shone when he turned to face me. "What are you doing here?" he asked, slight confusion muddling the still visible tension on his face. Slowly I looked at him and responded quietly.

"I apparently took the wrong road leaving Tempo, and ended up on the wooded road back there. That's when I heard the sound of water, so I came over and, well, yeah." Red nodded, and then sighed again.

"I suppose you want to know why I snapped like that huh?" he asked softly, not meeting my eyes. When I didn't respond he continued. "How much do you know about Velt anyways?" he asked, waiting for an answer.

"Not much." I told him, my voice equally soft. He nodded.

"I thought as much. But I wasn't sure if Wren – no. She wouldn't have told you, you were an outsider at the time. Well, I'll try to explain. You see, Velt never used to be so, so absentminded. He was brilliant. As an eighth grader he had been offered a full-ride scholarship to Harvard. He was planning on starting there in what would have been his sophomore year. That's when it happened. On January the fourteenth, three years ago, Velt's house was broken into by a masked robber. What the robber didn't realize was that Velt's parents were awake, sitting in the kitchen talking. When they confronted the robber, he stabbed them to death. At some point during the struggle the security alarm had been set off. The ringing awakened Velt, who came down the stairs to see the robber holding a bloody knife and standing over his parent's bodies. Velt grabbed his baseball bat from the side of the stairway – he was the captain of the school baseball team – and ran down the stairs, meaning to hit the robber I suppose. But the robber had turned slightly and glimpsed Velt coming down the stairs out of the corner of his eye. As Velt raised the bat, he turned swiftly; burying his knife deep in Velt's left shoulder. Velt collapsed with the pain of the knife scraping his bones.

Luckily, when the security alarm had gone off – the police had automatically been notified. They drove up before anything else could happen to Velt. But as they broke into the house, the robber escaped through an unguarded back window, leaving no trace of himself behind. He was never found.

Velt was unconscious when they brought him to the hospital. He was pretty close to being bled white. They had to call several of us with the same blood type as Velt in to get the blood he so desperately needed. Since both Angel and I were at the hospital as soon as we had heard, we were among the first to give blood, for all that we were both underage.

The doctor's barely managed to save the arm, and it took Velt almost six months to be able to move his fingers again. He still goes to physical therapy for it. But even after all this time, Velt still has no feeling in the fingers and palm of his left hand, which is one reason that he nearly dropped all of those papers today. The other reason is because he was simply paying attention to something else.

Anyway, Velt has lived with his aunt, his father's younger sister, ever since. She's a nice lady and she loves him with all her heart, but she never married or had children, so she finds it hard to relate to him in anything. It probably doesn't help that he looks just like his father did.

That's the reason why he's so scattered in everything he does, and why he spends more time at friend's houses then he does his aunt's house. Although Harvard still has that scholarship available to him, he doesn't think that he can take it. He's afraid to take the chance of leaving everything he knows behind. Being section leader is the first 'power' role that he's had since the robbery, and it's the only one that he would have felt comfortable taking anyways. Even though he used to be captain in just about every team he played on, and one of the leaders in every group he participated in. The charisma and the courage he had before are gone, at the very least changed to some other form." Red finished, the sighed, shaking his head, as I sat in a shocked silence, attempting to let the reality of what I had just heard sink in.

"It's kinda funny really." he said, a lopsided grin upon his face and I started at his sudden change of topic. When he didn't elaborate I spoke for the first time.

"What's kind of funny?"

"Hmm? Oh! Sorry, I was just thinking, about how well he knew us all before, and how well we all knew him. But know it seems that, although he still knows us, we are constantly learning more about him everyday. Or, at least, those who care are." He muttered, his face growing dark again as he recalled the ignorance and stupidity of the boy back at Tempo Cabin. Then, shaking his head, he stood, reaching a hand out to me and pulling me to my feet.

"Come on, I'll show you how to get back to Tempo – and how to get to your cabin from there. What cabin are you in anyway?" Red asked.

"Umm, it's a Coda Cabin, but I don't remember the number." I told him, worried.

"Well, there's only two Coda Cabins, and number one is a currently unoccupied boy's cabin, so you have to be in number two.

I nodded, relived, and he set off walking, pausing briefly for me to grab my tenor case from where I had left it at the edge of the woods and catch up.

When we made it back to Tempo Cabin, I saw a white-haired figure sitting upon the steps, head in his hands. Hearing our footsteps, Angel looked up, and swiftly got to his feet after realizing who we were, he then walked swiftly over to us.

"Red! Are you okay?" he questioned, worry obvious upon his face. Red grinned.

"Yeah. I'm fine" he said, Angel nodded his head in obvious relief, then looked at me.

"Were you not listening when I was talking earlier Moth?" he demanded, his voice taking on a sharp edge. I opened my mouth to respond heatedly when I was cut off.

"Calm down Angel. She got lost by accident, she didn't go looking for trouble or anything, she just turned down the wrong path when leaving the cabin." Red said softly, meeting Angel's eyes steadily. Slowly Angel nodded and sighed, then turned back to me.

"Sorry about that. It's been a long day." he said tiredly.

"It's okay." I responded quietly.

"I'll talk to you later Angel – I'm gonna show Moth how to get back to Coda Cabin Two from here so she doesn't get lost again." Red said. Angel nodded his head and began to walk away, raising his hand in farewell.

After a brief moment Red spoke again. "Well – we'd better get going if you want to have time to unpack before going to supper." I nodded, and he set off along the path, turning in an obviously different direction then the one that I had taken earlier.

After about five minutes we left the woods once again and I caught sight of a familiar figure walking towards us."

"Moth! Where were you?!? Sectionals should have ended almost an hour ago!" Firefly exclaimed.

"Oh, I turned the direction and got lost leaving Tempo Cabin. Red here found me and showed me how to get back here." I told him, for some reason feeling the strange urge not to say that it was I who actually found Red, where I had found him or what I had learned from him.

"I see, well, you'd better go up and unpack mow Moth. Wren's been really worried!" For the first time since walking up to us, Neal looked at Red, and coldly nodded his head. "Red" he said curtly, barely on the edge of politeness.

Red returned the nod with a barely perceptible tilt of his head, and then looked down at me. "I'll see you later Moth – try not to get lost." he said grinning, looking back at Neal, the grin fading from his face. "Firefly." he said in a manner just as cold as Neal's had been a moment before, and then walked off.

Almost immediately Neal turned to back to me, his rude mannerisms entirely gone and a deadly serious look upon his face. "You really shouldn't hang around with him. He's bad news, with some real issues." He informed me. "We were all really worried that something had happened to you." Firefly finished, then a grin returned to its accustomed spot upon his face as he glanced at his watch.

"If you and Wren hurry while unpacking, we should be able to fit in a game of Fluxx or two before supper." he said, grabbing my tenor case out of my hand and walking away towards the cabin.

I was left confused about the confrontation between him and Red a few moments before, but knew that I wouldn't get a reason for it out of him. Suddenly a new worry surfaced in my mind, and I ran to catch up with the orange-haired boy, calling out in front of me "Hey! What's Fluxx? Neal? Firefly?!? Answer me!!! What's Fluxx?!?!"

a/n –

Yeah!!!! I finally managed to update!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm really sorry it took me so long, but our computer got hit by a virus and died completely! And with it I lost this chapter and the next two, plus my homework!!!! So we had to go out and get a new computer, and I got to mess around with the old one. I got it working again. But it'll never be able to stand going online again without crashing. The good news is that I was able to get parts of this chapter back, but the next two (plus my homework) are gone for good. Looks like I get to rewrite them from memory.

Another sorry factor in my lack of updates was homework! I was, apparently, stupid enough to sign up for three AP classes this year. (stupid stupid stupid hits head on a handy brick wall with each word). But anyway...

Thanks to all who reviewed!!!

Jinxed n cursed: number four!?! What happened to the others? Did they like all die in a freak band accident or something???? 32nd notes at 120 – boy is that ever too fast to play while moving. Sitting down – its fine then, but moving?? Boy do Newbies ever not get it sometimes. (shakes head sadly)

Baritone Queen: ahh! It makes sense now, thanks for explaining it. How many drum majors/directing people do you have in all? Yeah, his name does kinda fit now that I think about it... . You guy's play at away games? heh heh, sneaking out of hospitals, now THAT sounds like a fun evening. (But fire is our friend...) Besides the fact that your uniforms can't be in that great of condition anymore of course. A lovely taste isn't it? Gasoline fumes, I mean.

Saxfreak: thanks! Isn't it sad? Our school can't even afford colored paper anymore! what did you think of the character sheet?

xXmRsMaLfOyxX: for some reason yahoo wouldn't let me send that character sheet to either of the email addresses that you gave me. Do you have another email that would work instead. 'cause I feel bad that I couldn't get it to you. I just kept on getting them back from Mailer-Daemon with an error message attached.

Anubuss/EP: I decided to group you two together on this one 'cause I'm gonna make the same message to both of you: FLUXX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! heh heh. (evil grin)

To all: later everybody – I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as homework will allow 'k? g'bye!

-gryffyn


	15. Fluxx

"Brain no T.V.! I win!!!" crowed Skink as he slammed down his cards unto the table. Neal groaned and threw his cards down.

"Damn it! I would have had it next turn too!" he complained, annoyed "I had peace no war!"

I stared at my hand, confused. I didn't have a clue as to what had just happened, or an idea as to what the cards in my hand actually did. Wren glanced up, noticed my despairing confusion, and pushed herself off of our cabin steps and over to where I was sitting on a patch of grass, opposite of her.

"Hey Lynn – what's wrong, you still confused?" she asked me, settling down upon the grass and reaching for my hand when I nodded my head. "Hmm… well you had a couple of good cards in here, but a whole lot of crappy ones too." She said, beginning to organize my cards by colors.

"There are four different kinds of cards and each one has a different color stripe down the side. Pink for goals – that's what you have to fulfill in order to win the game. Green for keepers, those are the cards that you want on the table in front of you – they help you fulfill the goals. Yellow for new rules – basically they allow you to change the rules for everyone if you don't like the current mix of rules. And blue for actions. An action is printed on the card, and if you lay it you get to complete that action, and then go back and finish your turn. For instance, you had 'Steal a Keeper' in you hand. That's an action. It allows you to take a keeper – the green card – from in front of anyone and stick it in front of you.

Our friend over there just won by exchanging a goal called 'Brain no TV' with another one. He already had the keeper 'brain' in front of him, and none of us has the 'TV,' so he won. Understand it now?" she asked, handing me back my cards.

"I think so" I told her, still somewhat confused – but less so.

"Good. Now lets play another round." Wren replied, grinning as she got up and walked back over to her seat.

I handed my cards back to Moss, who was dealing, and was getting ready to brace myself for another hand when suddenly the others stopped what they were doing, looking up at something behind me. I turned, and grinned.

"Hey Stone! Do you want to join us?" Firefly asked, grinning widely.

"That depends. Is Skink winning again?" Stone responded with a grin of his own, although a slightly lopsided one.

"Yeah."

"In that case – yeah, why not? It'll be fun to make him lose." He said, still grinning as he settled down between myself and Firefly.

"You can try drummerboy. You can try." Skink said, leaning back on his hands and smirking.

"Hey! Will you two stop out-talking each other and let me deal?!?" Neal snapped, more amused then frustrated at their behavior. Skink rolled his eyes but shut up, Stone just grinned some more and sat back, waiting to get his cards.

Skink turned to me as Neal started dealing. "So Moth, how was your first sectional?" he asked, looking genuinely curious.

"Huh?" I asked startled. "Oh! Sorry. It was fine." I responded, a bit startled by his asking for some reason.

"I'm guessing you didn't get any push-ups then?"

"Push-ups? What do you mean?" I asked him. He looked over at Neal and grinned, which didn't make me feel any less nervous about his comment.

"Red must have been in a good mood then. He gives push-ups to those who screw around during sectionals normally." he explained. Remembering the eventful end of sectionals I wondered at the accuracy of his words before responding.

"Uh, yeah, he… seemed to be in a good mood." I murmured, not fully wanting to tell all of the occurrences of sectionals.

Fortunately, any other questions that he had, or any other comments that he might have made were cut short by Neal slamming the deck down upon the boards we were using as a table, making us all jump.

"Are we going to play or talk?" he demanded, acting angry.

"We're going to talk, thanks." quipped Skink, becoming the next recipient of Neal's so-called death glare; which he pointedly ignored as he picked up a card from the draw pile and looked at his hand for a minute before pulling out a different card, laying it down in front of him majestically. It was "Peace."

Moss rolled his eyes, reaching for the deck. "Showoff."

(Ten or Twelve minutes later…)

It was my turn again, so I drew three cards (Moss had laid the 'draw three' rule card during his last turn.) Gingerly I pulled a card out of my hand and changed the goal, placing the old one in the 'trash' pile.

"My game?" I asked, unsure as to whether I had actually won or not.

Stone leaned forward and looked at the card I had played. "All You Need Is Love." he read allowed, then looked at the solitary keeper lying in front of me. "She has 'Love' guys. It's her game." he said, sitting back and grinning at the expression on Skink's face.

"Uh uh. No way. I haven't lost in, well, umm…. I really don't remember!" Skink burst out, annoyed and flustered.

"Calm down Skink. She won, get over it. Although I had been hoping for the last two years to be the one to beat you, you don't see me complaining!" Stone told him calmly. Skink turned on him with the expression of an angry cat getting ready to pounce. Fortunately, Neal took this time to glance at his watch and yelped.

"Holy crap! I lost track of the time! You guys have to go now if you want to make it in time for the veg meal!"

Quickly he shoved the deck back into its box and tossed it to Skink as Moss and Stone stood and stretched, preparing to leave. Moss saw me still sitting and grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet.

"You'll want to eat with Marching Block after supper. Trust me." he said kindly, releasing my hand.

Stone clapped us both on the shoulders "Come on you two – let's go eat before Skink does something he'll eventually regret." he said, starting to lead us off in the general direction of the Mess Hall.

a/n: I'm really sorry it took me so long to update. Don't blame me, blame the fact that I was stupid enough to take four AP/Adv classes in my senior year. groans and hits herself upside the head.

oh, and I really do love Fluxx! It's the best game in the world! well, mabey not the world, but ya'll get my point...

To indivd. Reviewers:

BaritoneQueen: well that's a good thing. Anything's better then having to dry-clean a ton of probably wool uniforms. What are summer uniforms? Never heard of those before... I think they had better overhaul all the buses in your system, that's just not safe! Oh, and you're welcome to come and replace our tuba captain! (well, tuba/baritone/ 'bass clarinet/tenor sax'). With only 8 of us in the section, and four of us being seniors, our director decided to promote a junior who has absolutely no marching experience! (besides from parades – he didn't march last year). Grrrr… hope you liked this chappie too! -later!

Jinxed n cursed: woa! You guys have no luck w/ directors! Your own show?!? That's so cool! How'd it go? Thanks for reviewing!

The Dark Evil One: yeah… I'll try to compensate for that and work one in, I had one originally on the bus ride, but I scrapped her 'cause she didn't fit in with the 'flow' of the story if you will… . I'm almost afraid to ask, but Kiss the Moose? I have to know. Our band's doing a Queen show next year. pouts and I won't be there for it! Oh well, I'll just have to come back and haunt them… heh heh heh…

Lyra-the-Silvertongue: you probably do and don't realize it, that's how it normally goes. I updated! It took me forever, but I updated!

xXmRsMaLfOyxX: I tried it again, and it still didn't work, you're more then welcome to try emailing me. I don't remember what address I have in the account, but the one I use is . type something generally along the lines of; 'character list' in the subject line, otherwise we chance my anti-spam/anti-virus protections trashing your email 'cause they don't recognize the address. It's about to get even better, trust me. The biggest news is yet to come. And no, nobody's pregnant. (don't ask – I told one of my pre-readers that something big was coming, and that's what they asked me… yeah.).

aelwyn: that's a lot of people! Wow! Hmm… I forgot what I was gonna say… oh yeah! I would cross my fingers with you, but it would be kinda hard to type that way.

Anubuss/Elemental Phoenix/Cloud Strife 7.25: ullo! And Good Morning! Talk ta ya all later, but happy reading and happy trails! Cheerio Chaps! (or Chapeses as the case may be…)

To All: later everyone! thanks for reading and don't forget; never eat something off of the band room floor.


	16. Inedible Food

Despite my height, I was still forced to take two steps for every one of Stones; forcing me into a slow jog in order to keep up with the boys, going up the hill towards the mess hall made me glad I was in shape from running every morning.

Walking inside after the boys, I closed the door before it could slam, not wanting to suddenly be the center of attention as a result of the echoing slam of the door closing naturally. As it was, enough people glanced up as we entered. Hurrying up to the line after Moss and Stone, I was glad we had not arrived any later then we had, as it was, we were the last ones to get our food.

Following the guys, I sat at the wooden table across from Stone. They had grabbed a table in the farthest corner from the entrance to the Mess Hall. Using my fork I prodded the limp brownish mass in front of me. Where the kitchen workers trying to put us out of our misery on the first day? I wondered as I let a piece of it fall off of my fork and back onto my plate with a soggy splat.

"What IS this stuff?" I asked, not completely sure that I actually wanted to know the answer to my question. Stone just smirked at my question, his own food completely untouched. Next to me, Moss was munching on a granola bar that he had pulled out of his pocket.

"Honestly you guys. What is this?" I demanded, their responses not exactly giving me the faith I needed to try the food. Still smirking, Stone just drank his juice, Moss ignored the both of us while trying to hide the fact that he was eating outside food from the kitchen workers. Before I could ask them again, a tray with food on it was slid onto the table across from Moss, and a blond haired boy sat gently down onto the bench.

"Hey Stone, how're the newbie's this year?" Red asked, nodding at Moss and myself.

"Raw. Very raw." Stone told him with a sigh. Red winced at the drummer's response.

"You going to be able to make anything out of them?"

"Do I have a choice? I'm just glad we had percussion camp already. If we hadn't – I'd probably have resigned already." Stone replied, looking at the mushy food in front of him and running his hands through his hair tiredly. "The trombones?" he asked, still staring at his plate.

Red glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before answering. "No problems out of the ordinary." he said, his lips tightening ever so slightly. Moss looked at him quizzically; getting no response he looked at me, a question in his eyes, and opened his mouth to ask me what had actually happened. Neal and a still shocked Skink came over with their meals and sat down, saving me from having to lie.

Noticing Skink's odd expression, and completely ignoring Firefly, Red raised an eyebrow. "What happened to you?" Skink turned to him and blinked, several times, without answering. Having finished his contraband granola bar, Moss rolled his eyes.

"He been like this since we left?" he asked Firefly curiously, when he received an affirmative nod, he turned to Red. "He lost at Fluxx." He answered, raising his cup up for a drink.

It was Red's turn to raise his eyebrows. "Really? To whom?" he asked, surprised.

Moss nodded towards me, his mouth full of juice, swallowed it then answered. "Moth did; her second game ever. Red's eyebrows went even higher as he looked at me.

"Really?"

Neal rolled his eyes. "Weren't you listening? He just told you that Red." he said disgustedly, looking around the room instead of at Red. Looking at my tray Neal looked worried. "You aren't actually eating that are you?"

"Hmm? Oh. I haven't gotten up the nerve to try it yet." I confessed to the group. "What is it anyways? Stone and Moss wouldn't tell me." I asked, my curiosity restored, glancing at them: Stone was engrossed in a whispered conversation with Red, who hadn't taken Firefly's comments easily; Seeing me look at him, Moss set down his cup and sighed, glancing down at my plate.

"Well, we're not … actually…sure…what it is." He confessed. "They call it 'Meatless Meatloaf,' but….it doesn't have ANY vegetables in it. None of us has ever actually tried it either…." he admitted. Raising my eyebrows in a somewhat shocked disgust, I looked around the table.

"Hey – where's Wren?" I asked – noticing the absence of my cousin. With all of the randomness supplied by the guys, her absence had gone momentarily unnoticed by me.

"She's with the colorguard – they always eat supper by themselves; they have practice when we have marching block and it's less hectic for them to just be separated from us for supper." Stone told me quietly, looking past me at Neal with an odd look in his eyes. I nodded quietly, hoping that Wren would be able to explain everything to me tonight.

Crackling to life, the ancient loudspeaker system in the mess hall called our attention to the podium; standing upon it was Riktor. Looking around the room he began "Band members - after you take care of your trays, go to your cabins and clean them. Inspections will take place while you are in Marching Block. If there is any mess in your cabin, regardless of whose it is, clean it up. The inhabitants of any cabin that is less then perfect will run suicides on the marching field after Block practice until I am satisfied that they have learned their lesson. As the color guard are already off at practice, you will clean up for them today; they will do the same another time. I will accept nothing less then total perfection and cooperation from this band. If there is any mess in your cabin, regardless of whose it is, clean it up. You have one hour before Block begins on the field. Bring tennis shoes and a water bottle. You will not need your instruments or flip charts tonight." Riktor finished, turned, and walked out of the mess hall.

Hurriedly I followed the guys example; grabbing my tray, scraping it clean, and handing it to one of the kitchen workers.

* * *

a/n:

hey ya'll – sorry it's been such a long time since I've updated – longer then I said it would be in my email. I never gave it a thought that my life might actually be busier after high school graduation. I've had meetings, open houses, and one of my best friends, (also my pre-reader) moving like 10 states away. Between all that, its hard to get either the inspiration or the time to do anything. Chapters SHOULD be coming more steadily after this, since it appears that, for the time being, I have no life. Don't expect a chapter for the rest of the week though – I somehow managed to end up with all of my doctor's, dentists, and eye doctor's (and everything else) appointments this week. Joy.

Thanks to all of you for putting up with me and still reading! Ya'll are the best!

-Gryffyn

* * *

Individual Thanks:

BennuPhoenix: Having fun down there in Florida Kitty? Miss having you as my prereader!

Anubuss: I happen to LOVE that 'First Play Random' card buddy! (mostly 'cause it's fun laying it to play and then watching your face! Gomen….)

Jinxdncursed: the game's kinda confusin at times, I'll admit it. It's funny that you say that 'cause the first thing in the rule book is actually "the easiest way to learn how to play fluxx is to play it!" pats you on the back, I know how you feel with the show. We only had four home football games this year! And we got rained out twice! And I was sick once, so I only got to march once my senior year, that sucked…..and the show was so badly screwed up…..i don't wish to remember it either!

Lyra-the-Silvertongue: do we ever truly know or understand where our nicknames come from? I'm still confused about that truly…. And I updated again!

Nerdykay: sorry for taking so long to update! Hope you like the chapter!

Sheyana: salutes yes mam! I updated!

ClassClown: I'm glad you liked it, I hope you read more!

MelloLoser: Sorry it took so long for me to update! Hope this chapter's up to par with the rest of them – the next one will be longer!

Elaine Kaelar: Did you have fun learning how to play the bass? Hope you did! It dosent happen very often in our band where someone can join who hasn't played an instrument before, I'm not sure if it's ever happened actually. I admire your courage in trying it! Sorry it took so long for the update!

Your Friendly Old Pitster: yeah…my old comp had terrible spell check! I hope this ones better – my prereader moved and hasn't re-set up her email account yet so I cant guarantee the spelling though… sorry. Who actually likes Kelter anyway? I say: GO MUDRUNNING! (sorry – coffee makes me hyper…). Moss will continue to be cool – and shortly (maybe…) we'll find out exactly why he was crying in "Silent Tears" (ch. 5).

Kendra: Thanks for the reviews! What's '10 fingers'? that's a band game I've never heard of before! Did you survive your freshman year of band camp alive and sane? (I wont tell you how many people I've seen who haven't! jk.)

ColourGuardNerd: I'll try to add you! There'll be no bass clarinets in this storie (I had to change my character to the instrument who's part I play!) but I'll try to add you as a color guard!

The Readhead Witch: yes mam! I keep writing! Thanks for reading and reviewing Ann!

BaritoneQueen: never could understand why they wanted us to wear white shoes, those things are so stinkin hard to keep clean! Anythings better then show uniforms!

The Pirate Illusionist: Thanks for reading! I'm so badly addicted to Fluxx it's not even funny! Now all of my friends are as well, and have had to go out and order games of their own! (no place sells them around us – we have to order them offline!)

DrumLineGroupy: Thanks! And Bass Clarinets do rock! (So do low brass….it was lonely up by the high woodwinds so I used to randomly go and sit by the baritones and trombones! The band director didn't care as long as I wasn't a disruption! It was so much fun!).

Stephanie: how in the world did they manage to brake a bass in half! PLEASE tell me that it wasn't a wooden one! How did you guys end up with two first chairs? Or do you mean that you both play the first part?

* * *

G'Night All!

-Gryffyn


	17. Notes

Walking into Coda Cabin, I was relieved to not note that Wren had finished unpacking her stuff, and everything was neat in the cabin itself with the exception of my half un-packed luggage, and a folded piece of paper laying upon the table top.

Hurriedly, I finished unpacking and folding my clothing began placing it neatly inside of the dresser at the foot of my bed, not sure if the inspectors would be checking the dressers for neatness or not, but wanting to be prepared for the possibility. Moving my bags under my bunk, I glanced around the cabin. It was as neat as I could make it without having several more hours at my disposal. Grabbing my water bottle, I glanced at Wren's clock. Seeing that I still had thirty minutes left before I had to be down on the field, I walked over to the table,

The folded piece of paper had my name written upon it in Wren's familiar cursive. Opening it up, I saw that a key had been taped inside of it, along with another note from Wren.

_Moth –_

_There have been issues in the past with break ins, Riktor saw to it that a lock was installed for us. Your key is attached, I already have my copy. Do NOT lose it! I'll see you after our separate blocks; you'll have to tell me all about sectionals._

_- Wren_

Somewhat confused, I pulled the key off of Wren's note, and attached it to my keychain. Placing both my keys and Wren's letter into my pocket, I looked around the cabin. Satisfied that it was as neat as it was going to be, I picked up my water bottle off of the table and headed out, hoping that I would see someone else that I knew who could explain what Wren meant.

Pausing to lock the door behind me, I left Coda Cabin and headed back down towards the main camp.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Sorry about the length of this chapter! There was no other good place to end for a long time! I'll do my best to have more chapter's up soon!

Individual Notes:

KatMarFin: Did you love or hate being the only one? It seems to vary by the person I talk to; me, I loved it. I wish you the best of luck going back to the clarinet! I tried it at one point, but wasn't able to, I discovered that, after playing the bass, I hated the clarinet…. looks sad 'Princess Daisy'? I love it! One of the baritones at my high school was nicknamed 'Princess Toadstool,' much to his embarrassment of course!

Jinxdncursed: Good luck with Drum Majoring bit! I know what you mean about not being coordinated enough to march and play! It took me forever to get the hang of it! How'd band camp go?

'am': Thanks! Percussionists are cool! (you have to remember to duck sometimes…but hey… lol)

HuntSeat Panhead: FanFiction's irritating sometimes like that. It wouldn't let me sign in at all last week to update but it has no problem with me doing it now! There will be SOME hazing in here…. I'll admit that. We had it in our band, so it's in this one! Gladiator theme would have made for a sweet show! Yes, there's flutes here, haven't had time (or energy) to write them in yet though…..maybe soon.

I never noticed that his name was the same as Tamora Pierce's character….funny really. But no, I actually do know someone named Briar who dyes his hair leaf green, earning him the nickname of 'Moss' (he's actually not in my school though….I added him in for the story…..but he really does play the tuba!) – gryffyn

Elaine Kaelar: We didn't/don't believe in pits either. If the show called for it, we'd have marching mallets, but we only had them my sophomore year, the next two we had 'normal' marching corps (lol!). Sorry…no answers in this chapter…..just another question…..but I'm working towards answering some more of the questions. I promise!

The Pirate Illusionist: I know what you mean, I was SO lost at first, and now I can almost not stop playing it! (I've also gotten addicted to some of the other games by the same company!)

C.B.A.: That's a very good question…..I hope that they don't kick us off! Thanks for the complement!

Aelwyn: I know! I never ate the food at band camp! Always know the phone numbers of the local pizza joints by heart! Congrats to section leader! I hate dentist apointments……

BennuPhoenix: here kitty kitty kitty…..(jk!)

Anubuss: 'ullo!


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